Surprise, Surprise, Look Who's Arrived!
by Scrittore Di Novelle
Summary: Ron and Hermione throw a little dinner in order to celebrate their new home. But what their guests discover is that there's almost always a hidden agenda, and that Ron has an impeccable sense of timing. Please R & R.


_Surprise, Surprise, Look Who's Arrived!_

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

A/N: Britishisms- 'And Bob's your uncle' means 'and that's it.' 'Lounge' is another word for 'living room.' Finally, to be 'sloshed' is to be 'drunk.'

Hermione meandered through the house trying to check for anything she'd missed the last ten go-arounds._ Everything has to be perfect._ She thought while examining a linen cloth with excruciating detail.

She rounded a corner and pursed her lips at the sight before her. Ron with his feet upon the coffee table, eating a biscuit no less. _Oh honestly!_ He knew she hated when he did that.

"Ron, the house has to be spotless! This is our new home and we have to look after it, and you know we have company coming soon."

"Company?" Ron replied clueless. "Oh! You mean Harry and Ginny-" He said, suddenly coming to.

"-And Fred, George, your parents, and Remus and Tonks." She interrupted him. She was definitely not in the mood for this.

"But Hermione, that's not company. Th-that's just family. Nothing to fuss about. Just sit down...eat a biscuit." He picked one out of the tin and offered it to her.

He was truly testing her now. She knew it was childish, but she just couldn't drop the old habit. In her head, slowly but calmly, she started to count to ten.

1...2...

"C'mon Hermione, eat the biscuit. They're absolutely brilliant! Mum made them..."

3...4...

"And well you know, you can top 'em with anything. Anything at all!"

5...6...

"Chocolate, which I think is the only way to go. Oh and this morning I tried 'em with..."

7...8...

"Even gave some to Harry, and he loved them of course! So then he said, 'Y'know what?'"

9...10...

When she was done Ron was _still_ going on about those stupid biscuits. She was sure they were fantastic, but as a conversation topic? Not the best thing to go on about for hours. It was just like Ron to spend almost a minute ranting about food. And he _still _had his feet on the table!

"Ron, I know it's hard for you but for one second, one second, would you please stop rambling on about food."

"Well! I guess someone doesn't want a biscuit!" He took the biscuit he had offered her earlier and took a large, satisfying chomp out of it, leaving him with almost nothing in his hand.

She scoffed angrily. He hadn't been able to do it! Honestly, not even for a second, and all while his feet remained firmly planted on the table! She had cleaned and polished that table for what seemed like forever, and here was Ron spreading marks along the side as if it were nothing. With her hard work transfiguring itself into gray splotches, Hermione decided she could not bear the sight any longer. "_Ronald_, would you _please_ take your shoes off the table?" Hermione had practically growled the words.

"When you ask like that, you wonder--" He started off sarcastically. Hermione eyes' flashed with impatience, and what was more terrifying, delirious anger.

"All right." Ron yelped while swiftly removing his feet.

"Thank _you_." The evening was not going as planned, and was most certainly not starting off well.

* * *

After much nit-picking and little rows here and there, the doorbell had finally chimed its little song signifying visitors at the door.

"They're here!" Hermione announced excitedly as she opened the front door. Then proceeded to completely smother a short, redheaded woman.

"Ginny! Oh, it's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you, too, but I'd like to remain alive at the end of this hug. So if you wouldn't mind-" Ginny choked out the last few words. Hermione let her go, letting Ginny take huge helpings of air.

"And Harry!" Hermione was gentler this time as she moved over and hugged Harry. Though somehow she still managed to make Harry's glasses askew.

Harry grinned and repaired the damage done. "Nice to see you, too, Hermione."

"I see how it is! A few mentions in the paper, some fancy awards here and there, and then great Boy-Who-Lived forgets his best mate?" Ron teased as he appeared from behind Hermione.

"Well, old man, you know how it is! Signing all those autographs does keep one busy." Harry answered back, eyes dancing as his friend and he shared one of their age-old jokes.

"Ah, a regular ol' Lockhart, I see. Taking a page out of his book, eh? What's next? Gonna show up to my house in lilac robes?" With that the two burst into explosively, loud laughter then carried on to wipe the tears out of their eyes.

Ginny and Hermione glanced at each other and muttered, "Men." They shook their heads. This little routine took place every time one of the couples visited the other. You'd think they'd get tired of it, but no-it was now a lasting tradition.

"Well do sit down. I'll go get some food and drinks." Hermione rushed off into the kitchen, while Harry, Ginny, and Ron sat themselves down on the couch.

"Ron, the house looks fantastic! How did you and Hermione get it decorated so quickly?" Ginny said with a hint of awe in her voice.

"All Hermione." Ron replied. Her jaw dropped. Ron continued, "You know how Hermione is. She wanted to do it all herself and give it a homey feel, or whatever that is. She reckoned she could get the place done by the time you lot came to visit, and she reckoned right." Ron smiled proudly and rightly so, he was proud of Hermione. They'd only gotten the house a month ago and look what she'd done to the place! Fully furnished, painted, _and_ adorned. She was freakishly brilliant, in a good way of course. He had married her after all.

"I'm back." Hermione announced. She was indeed, and looking like the tea trolley lady on the Hogwarts Express. On the tray she carried--Merlin knows how--were treacle tarts, fudge, spotted dick, and all kinds of other things that made all their mouths water. Of course, Ron was first to snatch something from the tray, and went on to attack the poor thing like a hurricane would a wooden shack. Hurricane Ron, that is.

While Hermione raced back to fetch the drinks, Harry had a thought that quite amused him. He munched on a piece of treacle tart, his favorite, and mused_, Hermione's Mrs. Weasley reincarnated _(figuratively speaking of course). He noticed how she scrambled throughout the house, stopping in the lounge once in a while to make sure they were fine, multi-tasking at a feverish speed. She'd even gotten a little plumper since the last time Harry had seen her. His thoughts were interrupted by a crashing boom, that could only be...

"Lovely! Just lovely." Fred spitted out some of the ash that covered every inch of his body.

"We're on the same, grimy broom my dear brother." George said, he was in an equally uncompromising position.

Hermione made her way to the fireplace. "_Tergeo_." As quick as a snitch, the twins were squeaky clean from head to toe. "There you go. Now go sit down and eat some food." Hermione was about to take off again when Fred and George stopped her.

"Oh no you don't. Knowing you, you've probably been bustling throughout this house all day long." Fred started.

Then George said, "So_ you _come sit down with us-Ooh sweets!" His thoughts were suspended as he saw the delectable platter.

* * *

Now all seated and enjoying their treats, Hermione started to relax. She resisted any temptation to get up and clean something.

"Where's everybody else?" Ginny asked perplexed. "I thought more people were coming."

"Oh, we forget to mention that mum and dad are caught up doing something or other. Oh and Remus and Tonks, too." George informed them. Then he spied something on the tray that looked very familiar, "Hermione...are those chocolate frogs...and cauldron cakes?"

Hermione smiled, obviously pleased someone had noticed. "Yes, I thought I'd put in a little something extra...something special."

"Next, you'll tell us you got pumpkin juice to serve us."

Hermione smiled wickedly and said, "_Accio_." There came floating, approaching the group, a pitcher filled with the orangey liquid, as well as glasses. Hermione began to serve everyone some of the juice.

"Hermione you outdid yourself. All of this for us! You know all this reminds me of the old days at Hogwarts." Fred looked as if he were recalling old memories that hadn't been brought up in a long time. Though it seemed like such a dark, terrible time, they could remember a few good times. In fact, they began to realize there were plenty. "Oh, remember when we finally left Hogwarts and that toad tried to stop us, George?"

The sextet started to roar with laughter.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves." Ron quoted and new spurts of laughter came out. "Merlin, that was great."

"And remember that valentine you got in your second year, Harry?" George questioned. Ginny and Harry immediately stopped laughing. "If I remember correctly a certain first-year with striking red hair sent that to you..." George looked over at Ginny. "Oh, c'mon Gin. A bleeding idiot can take that hint, s'all in good fun. You know you remember the poem, stop being such a wet blanket. Which reminds me-"

Wide-eyed with fear, Ginny rapidly said, "Oh, all right! Okay! I remember, just don't say anything else." She muttered something that sounded like a string of profanity and started to recite the poem. "_His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, his hair is as dark as a blackboard. I wish he was mine, he's really divine, the hero who conquered the Dark Lord._"

"Really, Gin, poetry is not your strong suit." George started to chuckle.

The color on Ginny's face, which had started off as a pale pink had quickly escalated to a level of bright, searing red. Harry hugged her reassuringly. Which of course boosted her confidence, enough to say, "Very high and mighty of you to make fun of me. Considering that one time Mum caught you in the bathroom with that magazine...and it _wasn't_ a Quidditch mag-"

"Hey!" George exclaimed, the bright red transferring onto his cheeks. "That is completely unfair and out-of-bounds." The rest of the group of course, ignored George's statement and burst out laughing once again.

Once the laughter receded, Hermione said, "Okay, okay. Let's try not to insult anyone. This should be a fun evening, it should-"

But was interrupted, when someone asked, "_Ooh!_ Remember Bill and Fleur's wedding?" Ginny quizzed excitedly.

_Honestly, what was the point?_ Hermione thought. At some time, things were bound to get out of hand. Really, there was no way of stopping the Mad Weasleys Express.

"You mean what happened between Ron and Krum?" Harry finally joined in. "Now _that_ was _priceless_."

"Oh, it drove Ron mad that the poor bloke was there." Fred added snickering. "Hey Ron, how long has it been since you stomped on one of his dolls?"

Ron's ears began to burn. "I'll let you know that it's been years-_years!_-since I have, thank you."

"Do you remember what happened, though?" George asked, directing his attention to his youngest brother. Ron shook his head, pretending to be unaware but somewhat truthfully oblivious to the event. "Well, of course you don't. You were drunk off your arse, you were! S'pect that's how the whole thing started."

"No, no. Don't you remember? Someone had spiked Ron's drink." Ginny set them straight. "With a love potion for Viktor Krum." She finished in jest, a wide grin plastered on her face.

"Oh, yeah! Well, then Won-Won over here," George said, using Ron's beloved nickname. "Goes up to Krum and starts calling him Vicky."

"Krum's looking all confused of course, 'cos Ron's practically shouting in his face." Fred and George take a moment to play out the situation. "Vic-ky! VIC-KY!" Fred shouts in George's face. "Jus' like that. So, by this point Ron's gotten everyone's attention, Viktor's looking around for help, and Phlegm's extremely cross with Ron."

Hermione's hand was covering her sorry expression. She had heard this story before and she knew what part came next.

"So all right, Ron has the best timing, 'cos next thing y'know the band starts playing. They had already been paid so what'd they care if it was the wrong time? Anyhow, that was when Bill and Fleur were supposed to have their first dance. So Ron, the twit, was babbling about 'Why, oh why Vicky never took him anywhere nice?' suddenly stops and starts dancing!"

Ron slumped down in his seat; suddenly the memories of the embarrassing day flooded his mind. He felt like he had a nasty hangover--he never could hold his liquor.

"Wait, wait." Harry said persistently. "Wasn't there a _song_?"

Ron racked his brain and winced. There _was_ a song.

"How could we forget!" Ginny exclaimed. "I think I still remember how it goes."

Ginny had obviously gotten over her recent and rather embarrassing predicament. Of course, this left Ron only sinking lower and lower into his seat.

"_Vicky, Vicky, I love you. From your head to your shoe. This is a feeling I'm new to. But I know that our love is true. I'll stick to you like glue. Vicky--I--love--youuu." _Ginny held out the last part especially longer than needed.

Fred and George applauded her after she was done. "Brava! Brava! Encore! Encore!"

_Please no_, Ron thought miserably. The humiliation was being prolonged for all it was worth. _Good-for-nothing prats._

"Really amazing you could come up with something like that when you were sloshed. Where's that brain power when you're sober?" Fred smiled maliciously. "Our family is filled with songs and poems. All of them are poorly written but serve fantastically as blackmail."

"Yeah, best bloody wedding I've ever gone to." George beamed. "Got to admit, Ron, you really gave us a show."

Hermione was worried. An hour had passed and still the rest of their guests had yet to arrive. The food was getting cold and she could feel the dust start to collect itself and undo all her hard work.

Ron's stomach grumbled..._loudly_. "I'm starving."

"Merlin's beard, Ron, what do you have in there? Crookshanks?" Ginny asked. Then added quickly (for Hermione's sake), "Only joking."

"Well, I think that we should go ahead and eat. I mean honestly the food's getting cold, and well frankly I'm starving, too." Fred stated looking mournfully at his belly.

Hermione was beginning to be persuaded. "_Well..._I don't suppose anyone will be terribly mad, as long as we save them some food. I-"

"S'what Mum would've wanted, really. Thanks, Hermione." Fred said hastily as he and George, along with Ron of course, raced to the dining room.

* * *

Later, settled at the table, Hermione began to summon platters and platters of food on end. Fit to serve a Weasley King or three, a queen, and company. There were a variety of pies (chicken and ham, shepherd's, and steak and kidney pies), plenty of salad with peas and carrots, Cornish pasties, and potatoes made in almost every way possible (mashed, roasted, and boiled). All at precisely the right temperature they should be. Thank goodness, that Hermione had looked up a very handy spell earlier that day. Chilled pitchers of pumpkin juice and a bottle of elderflower wine floated their way onto the table, making themselves available to any thirsty person in need.

With a small smile, clearly happy with her accomplishment, Hermione said, "Tuck in." Everyone grabbed a plate and did just that, serving themselves large amounts of this and that.

Midway through the meal, Ron took a break from eating and rose from his seat. "Everyone, I have something important to say," Ron announced.

Hermione looked surprised-and not because she thought he was mad to stop eating (very un-Ronish)-but because she thought it was too soon.

Ron had read her mind but ignored her thought. "No, this cannot wait. Every-"

"Food's delicious!" Fred interrupted, while chewing on some of his potatoes; his grin put them on display.

Ginny began to say something, as well. "George would you please pass me the butter dish?" Gin asked, knife ready in hand.

George smirked, "As long as you don't put your elbow in it."

"Oh really, grow up why don't you? I swear-"

"All right, all right. So, as I was saying. Everyone...Hermione and I are having a baby!"

Somewhere between the "Everyone" and the "baby!" they all heard four pops in the room, and those four pops most definitely heard the "baby!" Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Hermione, and she prepared herself for what was certain to come next.

"_What_!"

"We just got here!"

"Congratulations are in order!"

"Congratulations for _what_!"

"He said wha--!"

"-It was _pouring_!-"

"He can't have a baby!"

"Git, of course he can't have one, he's a _man_!"

"_Hermione_, why didn't you tell _me_!"

"And Bob's your uncle! That's all you're going to tell us?"

"No, _you're_ his uncle!"

"Like cats and dogs, I tell you!"

"Considering the Weasley Family Curse, _s'amazing_ really, that you two haven't had kids yet."

"Now, now. It's not a curse...it-it's a _blessing_."

"Couldn't find any other way, so we _finally_ decided to Apparate."

"_Nooo_...are you _serious_? More importantly, are you _mad_!"

"-Five or so nutters running around like Ron? Some sort of _blessing_ if you ask me!"

"Are you going to have it the_ muggle _way?"

Hermione _somehow_ managed to escape into another room, where she sunk into a rather comfy armchair. She wondered when would they begin to notice she was gone. Then she began to think to herself, sorting through all her thoughts and passing all the questions recently asked, _I guess it's true what they say: Quiet evenings do not exist in Weasley households._


End file.
